“Are there spiders?” Caleb asked. “I don’t like spiders. ’Cept t’rantulas. I like them. We had one at preschool last year. His name was Leggy.”
Jake smiled. This was more like the chatterbox he’d spent a week with in August. He flicked on the light switch and surprise made his breath catch. The boxes bore the names of leading computer manufacturers. She was sitting on some pretty expensive inventory.
Locating the cat carrier didn’t take long. Caleb helped by carrying a bag of kitty litter that he insisted must go, too. “Hellooo...” Jake called opening the back door. “Cat Herders Limited, at your service.”
Allison waved him in. “Just set it on the washing machine. If Cleo and Rom see it, they’ll disappear. Caleb said he was thirsty. I think there are soft drinks and juice in the fridge. Help yourself.”
She was gone before Jake could reply. He thought it odd that she entrusted free rein of her personal space to a perfect stranger.
Her kitchen was small and easy to negotiate. He couldn’t help noticing that Allison’s home lacked the profuse clutter—however charming—found in Pam’s very large, airy kitchen. He opened a can of root beer for Caleb and poured half a glass. He’d learned his lesson about overfilling cups several summers ago.
He turned to put the can in the refrigerator and caught a fleeting glimpse of a fuzzy gold snake that disappeared behind the stove. His heart made a funny shift. He’d never felt any affinity for felines. He didn’t dislike cats, he simply didn’t care whether they existed or not.
Allison appeared a moment later with a cloth satchel in one hand and a garment bag tossed over the opposite shoulder. Squeezed under her arm was a small cosmetic bag.
“You call that moving?”
His shock must have been obvious because she blushed. “I’m a simple girl. Clean jeans and a toothbrush and I’m good to go,” she mumbled and shot out the back door just as Caleb sang out, “I seen one. I seen a cat.”
Jake hurried toward the living room and missed seeing the white tail in his path until it was too late. A loud screech of outrage coupled with the piercing barbs of an irate paw sent him airborne. He crashed into a low table and knocked over a brass lamp which he managed to catch but only by falling into an overstuffed chair.
Caleb’s eyes were wide and his thumb popped into his mouth. Before Jake could reassure the little boy that everything was fine, two cats—one a golden tiger, one white—shot in opposite directions. Jake could have sworn they scaled the walls as adroitly as Spiderman before vanishing like ghosts.
He started to holler for help, but as if reading his mind, his savior appeared. “What did you do to my cat?”
Jake answered with a curse too low for Caleb to hear, but Allison’s brows lifted. Certain his calf would need stitches to staunch the flow of blood, he set the lamp back on the wicker end table and hiked up his pant leg.
Thick blond hair obscured his search for the damage. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Allison’s sneakers and looked up. “Your cat scratched me.”
“Which one?”
“The left, obviously.”
“Which cat?”
Humor. Definite traces of humor in her tone.
“The white one,” he grumbled.
She bent forward. “I don’t see any blood.”
Her tone wasn’t as sympathetic as he felt the situation warranted.
“Well, it hurt like he...ck,” he grumbled, changing his word choice at the last second when he noticed his godson standing a few feet away.
Allison’s lips pursed as if trying not to smile. “I’m sorry. Maybe Cleo will apologize personally, but I wouldn’t count on it. She’s as regal as her namesake and just as temperamental. Wasn’t Cleopatra the one with an affinity for poisonous snakes?”
She straightened and walked to the table. Obviously, she expected Jake to suck it up and join them.
Heaving a sigh, he pushed the denim back down and stood. He had a bad feeling about this cat business, but what could he say? Allison was living up to her part of the bargain—changing her life to help a friend. He could certainly be man enough to do the same—bloodthirsty cats or no bloodthirsty cats. Maybe he’d buy boots.
Caleb sipped his soda and fidgeted in the chair while Jake carried a dress bag and two lumpy totes filled with what Allison called “work stuff” to the car. She was just starting to hunt for the cats when her cell phone rang. She retrieved it from her backpack, which Jake gathered doubled as a purse. Most of the women he knew carried handbags that cost more than dinner at a fine restaurant. Not Allison. Practical, efficient Allison.
Jake caught bits and pieces of her one-sided conversation as she transferred the few perishable items in her refrigerator into a reusable sack. From the serious frown on her face, he gathered something had gone wrong at her job site and someone wasn’t happy.
“I know that handling personnel is a little outside your experience, Ernesto,” she said, her voice rising. “But I’m going to have my hands full with the funeral this week. You’ll have to take charge, but I promise if you can keep us afloat until I get back, there’ll be a bonus in it for you. Whether we go belly up or not.”
Belly up? That didn’t sound very good, Jake thought.
She clicked off the phone and put it back in the bag. Returning to the table, she said, “Sorry about that. My employees are used to having me around, but they’ll just have to handle things, won’t they?”
He gave her credit for trying to sound optimistic, but as a hands-on type of boss, Jake understood what it meant to give up control. Which explained why he seldom managed to keep an assistant longer than a year or two. His latest protégé was constantly chafing under Jake’s reluctance to delegate, but Matt’s eyes and ears on the East Coast would come in handy while Jake was tied up here.
“Are you done with your drink, Caleb?” Allison asked. “If you are, why don’t you go to the bathroom then I’ll call my c.a.t.s and get them ready to g.o.”
Jake’s heart did a funny pirouette, which made no sense at all. He wasn’t the type to fall for a woman who spelled words in front of animals. He just wasn’t. But something about her serious look made him want to kiss her.
Damn. Any kind of attraction—especially at such an inappropriate time as this—was ludicrous. He’d just have to do his best to avoid her quirky, endearing little habits.
He made room for Allison’s bags in the chaotic mess of her rear storage compartment, then started the car and turned on the heater. The outside temperature was far chillier than he’d expected it to be, but he should have remembered. His little brother had spent every winter battling one kind of illness or another contracted on the damp, dank playgrounds near their southern California home.
Caleb climbed into his booster seat. He appeared pretty subdued compared to the child Jake was used to seeing. He was probably tired—it had taken a long time for him to fall asleep last night. Jake fastened the safety belt and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead then walked to the back door and peered through the window to check on Allison’s progress. He could see all the way into the dining room where Allison was on her hands and knees coaxing two very large, very sleek cats to come to her. The animals approached cautiously, probably because they expected the strangers to return.
He rested his forehead on the cold glass and watched. He had to say Allison’s derriere, which was facing him, was in mighty fine shape for a thirty-something computer geek, as Kenny had once described her. Butts were a fairly common sight in Miami. Naked, bronzed, firm, flabby, male and female. Jake was certain he’d grown inured to the sight. This made it all the more baffling that he now found himself mesmerized by the denim-clad bottom wiggling back and forth like a tail-twitching feline.
She moved as stealthily and gracefully as the animals she was trying to catch. He’d already noticed that quiet watchfulness about her. No doubt she was coaxing her pets in the low, firm voice he’d heard her use with Caleb. He smiled when she slipped first one, then the
second animal into the cargo box without a fuss.
She rose and turned around, brushing off her knees unnecessarily. Her house might be small, but it was tidy—unlike the rear compartment of her car. She gave a start when she spotted him. He opened the door but didn’t walk inside. He was reluctant to leave Caleb alone—even though he could tell at a glance the little boy had nodded off.
“Just about ready,” she said. “Could you grab my backpack? I’ll carry the cats.”
“They look heavy. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”
Her smile was the first honest grin he’d seen. And he liked it. A lot.
“I’m stronger than I look. Besides, you haven’t picked up my bag.”
He did her bidding and let out an unplanned grunt when he hefted the webbed strap over one shoulder. “What’s in here? Lead weights?”
“My life,” she said simply. “Quick fix stuff for my business. A book I need to read. My laptop, phone, keys—some that I can’t remember what they unlock but I’m afraid to throw away. That kind of stuff.”
She carried the rose-colored carrier quite effortlessly. “Ready?”
“Yes, please,” Jake said. “Let’s go home.”
It wasn’t until he followed her down the steps that his words sank in. Home. Kenny’s home. Kenny who didn’t live there anymore. The thought was almost too much to bear, but Jake had learned years earlier that when faced with paralyzing loss, you put one foot in front of the other and kept moving forward. It was the only way to keep the pain at bay.
Cleo and Rom were surprisingly quiet on the drive up the hill. They weren’t experienced travelers, except for the requisite trips to the vet for neutering and shots. But this time, they were together in one box, so perhaps that helped, Allison thought.
Which also meant they had time to plot revenge. Allison had no doubt whatsoever that cats possessed superior intellect and a long memory. She only hoped that Pam’s sofa wouldn’t be their victim.
Pam had loved that sofa. She’d pestered Allison with half a dozen calls to make sure she was buying the right one.
A sudden, sharp arc of grief swept through Allison’s mid-section. Only iron will and prayer kept her from vomiting. Or weeping. She was afraid if she started crying she might not be able to stop.
“You’re going to want to turn left—” Allison started to say, but Jake cut her off. “Would you mind if I gave it a try without help?” he asked politely.
Allison had been only too glad to let him drive. Her eyelids felt gritty with exhaustion and unshed tears.
“No problem.” Well, one small problem. Riding versus driving freed up the brain to think about things she really didn’t want to think about. Like funerals. And eulogies. And obituaries.
“I like your house,” Jake said, breaking the silence. “Those older homes have a lot of charm.”
“Thank you. I think so, too.”
“I didn’t notice any Christmas decorations. Too early for you or not your thing?”
“Way too early,” she admitted, grateful to have something neutral to think about. “I usually buy one of those little tabletop-size living spruce trees a few days before the twenty-fifth. Kenny always plants it for me, but I’ve yet to get one that survives past SuperBowl.”
His low chuckle felt surprisingly intimate. Yes, the guy was gorgeous, but that was a pretty lousy reason for thinking improper thoughts when your best friends in the world weren’t even buried.
Sitting up a little straighter, she said, “Although my house may look Grinchy, I’ve got all my Christmas shopping done.”
“That’s impressive.”
“Not really. I ordered online and sent everything directly to Minnesota. That’s where my family lives. We drew names this year. I got my brother. And I bought things for my parents, of course.”
“What did you buy?”
She looked at him, wondering about the reason behind his curiosity. Was he looking for ideas for his family? Did he have family somewhere? Why didn’t she know the answer to that question?
“Well, let’s see...a wallet and a book about Lewis and Clark. Both were items on my brother’s list. For my dad, a flannel shirt and sheared fleece slippers and for Mother, I ordered an antique cookbook off eBay and a new robe from JCPenney that she’ll probably never wear.”
“Why won’t she wear it?”
“She’ll say it’s too pretty and she’s saving it for good. I never knew what constituted good. Your honeymoon? Gallbladder surgery? What?”
“Are those the only people you buy for?”
“I give my employees gift baskets.” When I can afford to. “And Pam, Kenny, and Caleb,” she added softly, glancing over the seat.
She felt another twist of the knife in her belly. What would the holidays be like without Pam—the woman who regarded the other eleven months of the year as a prologue to December?
“You know, Pam and Kenny almost didn’t go skiing,” she said. “Pam usually makes him hang up the outside lights. But Kenny told her he’d take off a day midweek and do it for her.”
Neither spoke for a minute, then Jake said, “Pam really got into the holidays, didn’t she?”
“You have no idea. She firmly believed that it was sacrilegious to decorate for Christmas before Thanksgiving, but once turkey day was over, she went into full Christmas mode.”
“I’ve seen pictures.”
“Which can’t truly capture the depth and breadth of her holiday depravity. I used to accuse her of being a shill for Hallmark. She has dated ornaments ranging back to the Baroque period.”
Her teasing was the kind of thing Pam took in stride, but Allison bit down on her lip. Jake might misunderstand. What if he thought—?
His chuckle eased her worry. “So I gathered. She made us go into a Christmas-Around-the-Year store in some Podunk town in Florida last summer. Here we are in shorts and flip-flops, and she’s oohing and aahing over tiny snow-covered ornaments.”
Allison smiled. “I bought her a bumper sticker one year that read I Brake For Christmas.”
Jake glanced in the rearview mirror, then cleared his throat. Something about his body language told her whatever he planned to say was going to be serious.
“I’ve been trying to picture what life is going to be like after the funeral,” he said keeping his voice low. “Especially with the holidays coming up.”
“To be perfectly honest,” she said, “my biggest fear—after breaking the news to Caleb—was trying to imagine how I’d handle the holidays alone.”
“You say that like you expected me to leave right after the funeral.”
“Well...I didn’t know what to expect. Don’t you have a round-trip ticket?”
“No. I bought a one-way.”
“Really? You can take five weeks off from your business?”
He made a so-so gesture with his hand. “As long as I make my clients money, they’re happy. I’m not looking forward to dealing with the three-hour time difference, but I’ll figure it out. Is the house wired for high-speed Internet?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’ll be fine. Unless you’d prefer I stayed somewhere else after things settle down?”
“No, not at all. I want what’s best for Caleb. It’s a big house. We’ll each have plenty of personal space. And as long as you’re okay staying in Kenny and Pam’s room, then Cordelia’s little house will be there for her when she’s able to come home.”
He glanced sideways. “I peeked in the window this morning. It reminds me of a dollhouse.”
Allison smiled. “That’s exactly what Pam asked from the contractor who remodeled it. It was originally a greenhouse, but after her dad passed away Pam invited Cordelia to move out here. Technically, it’s a guest house—it has everything except a kitchen. Kenny once told me he’d lucked out there. Although he’d never have admitted this to Pam, he loved Cordelia’s cooking.”
“The arrangement seemed to be working for them,” Jake said.
Allis
on nodded. “They’d have a little friction now and then—mostly between Cordelia and Pam. Cordelia didn’t always approve of Pam’s choices where Caleb was concerned and Pam used to tell me that her mother was critical of her spending habits, but, all in all, they got along well.”
“Did you visit often?”
“Not really. Holidays, birthdays. And I’d babysit every once in a while when Cordelia was busy. Mostly, Pam and I got together in town.”
Allison decided now was as good a time as any to make her confession. “For the record, when I promised Pam that I’d be here for Caleb if anything ever happened to her, neither of us really thought anything would happen. She’d never admit it, but Pam knew I wasn’t exactly the maternal type.”
His expression looked baffled. “What does that mean?”
“I lack whatever gene makes people like Pam and Gayle great mothers. Kids can sense this. You’ve seen it yourself. If Caleb has a choice of turning to you or me, he automatically picks you.”
“Because I’m a guy. And he just spent some one-on-one time with me in August. We hung out.”
Allison didn’t know how to explain something so personal. She’d felt that way all her life. And look what had happened the one time she’d tried to go against her predisposition? Her ovary had developed a cancerous cyst and she’d had to abort the baby she was carrying.
“I’ll give you an example,” she told him. “I was the first non-family member to hold Caleb after he was born. He didn’t cry a peep until I picked him up. Then he howled. What does that tell you?”
“You’re paranoid?”
He said it jokingly, and she actually smiled. “That’s what Pam said, too. She always insisted I’d make a good mother if I loosened up a bit, but that’s not in my nature.” She couldn’t keep her voice from cracking a little. “I truly agonized over accepting her request to be Caleb’s godparent. I wouldn’t have, but Pam promised not to die.”
Neither spoke for a few minutes, then Jake said, “So what you’re saying is that you plan to honor Pam’s request—even though you think you’re not the right person for the job.”
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